


Ojo Spins the Funnel

by amythis



Category: Oz - L. Frank Baum
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-19 21:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5981323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amythis/pseuds/amythis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spin the bottle, Oz-style.  The humans are sixteen in this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Funnel

"Spin the bottle?" Scraps asked. "What's that?"

"Well, it's—" Dorothy broke off as Ojo and the two men returned. Then she blushed. She was very pretty when she blushed. But then Ojo had always thought she was pretty, ever since they met years ago.

"Ah, girl talk," said the sensitive Tin Woodman. "Perhaps we should step back outside."

"No, it's all right," Dorothy said, blushing less.

"Go on, Dorothy," Princess Ozma said gently.

"Well, Betsy Bobbin was telling me about it. You know she was a little older than I was when she came here, and I'm not sure if it was around in my day anyway."

Ojo knew from talking to Dorothy that that statement wouldn't have made any sense in the United States, the land that Dorothy, Betsy, and a few others came from. In the U.S., as they called it for short, there was no such thing as magic, and everyone aged in a regular, predictable manner. It was different in Oz. You could stay the same age for as long as you liked. Dorothy's friend Trot, for instance, had decided she liked being ten, so she was staying there for the time being. Ojo and Dorothy, on the other hand, were currently sixteen, although they hadn't arrived at that age at the same rate. (He had rushed through thirteen in only a year, because it was an unlucky age, especially for his complexion.)

"But what is it?" asked the curious Scarecrow.

"Well, spin the bottle is a game that boys and girls play. A, a kissing game."

"They kiss a bottle?" he said, his baggy forehead wrinkling.

"No, no, they take turns spinning the bottle on the floor, and when it's your turn you kiss the person it points to. Then it's that person's turn to spin."

"That sounds fun," Ozma said. "Are six people enough to play?"

"Six? You want us to play?" Ojo asked in surprise.

"Yes, why not?"

Ojo couldn't think of any reason why not, other than he'd never kissed anyone before, except on the cheek.

"Is it just male-female kisses?" the Tin Man asked.

"Well, back home I think it is," Dorothy said.

"I think male-male kisses would be fine," said Ozma, smiling at the Tin Man. "And female-female kisses," she added, turning her smile towards Dorothy, who blushed again.

"Good," said the Scarecrow. "That gives us fifteen pairs instead of just nine."

Ojo wondered how the Scarecrow could do that so quickly in his head. Ojo couldn't have done it even with a mathematics pill, or help from Professor Wogglebug.

"Have we got a bottle?" asked the Patchwork Girl, who could be surprisingly practical sometimes.

"I might have a bottle," the Scarecrow said.

They were at the Scarecrow's grand house, which was shaped like an ear of corn, with kernels made of solid gold. The five of them had all happened to decide to visit the Scarecrow on the same day. It wasn't a difficult journey for the tireless Tin Man from his castle to the West, but Dorothy and Ozma had come from the Emerald City, in the red wagon drawn by the Sawhorse, while Scraps had suggested that she and Ojo drop in "on their way" back to the capitol from their visit to Dr. Nicodemus and Dame Margolotte Pipt. As the Pipts lived in the Gillikin Country, on the Munchkin border, near where Ojo grew up, while the Scarecrow lived in the Winkie Country, Ojo knew enough, even without a geography pill, to realize that this was more of a side trip. But as he was fond of the Scarecrow, although in a different way than Scraps was of course, he'd raised no objections.

The Scarecrow was happy to see his friends and had invited them all to stay over. There was plenty of room, as the top three stories were lavish bed-chambers, and only Ojo, Ozma, and Dorothy would need sleep. As the other three were not "meat people," they never had to rest or eat or perform other human functions. They were happy to talk and laugh as the others ate though, and the Scarecrow, Tin Man, and Patchwork Girl had been wonderful company in the banquet room during dinner half an hour ago. After he ate as much he could, still not having forgotten what it was like to go hungry as a small lad, Ojo wanted to walk some of it off in the cornfield that surrounded the mansion. The Scarecrow and Woodman agreed to accompany him, although of course they never needed the exercise. The ladies had stayed in the reception hall, chatting, including apparently about kissing games.

The Scarecrow added, "I'm afraid there's still milk in the bottle. Would any of you care to drink it?"

Ojo didn't think he could drink a whole bottle of milk, but maybe he, Dorothy, and Ozma could finish it between them. He was just about to suggest this, when the Tin Man said, "Why don't we spin my hat?"

The Emperor of the Winkies still wore his old hat made out of a tin funnel, rather than a crown. It should spin very well on the Scarecrow's marble floor and there would be no doubt which was the pointy end.

"Excellent idea, Nick!" the Scarecrow cried, patting his best friend on the back with a gloved hand.

Scraps burst into rhyme, as was her wont:  
"Funnely enough,  
Hat is off the cuff.  
It's what we need  
To now proceed  
To kissing, smooching, and stuff."

Not for the first time, Ojo worried about the Poesy ingredient he'd secretly mixed into the Patchwork Girl's brains. He'd arrived shortly before Dr. Pipt brought her to life to serve as a servant to Margolotte. A terrible accident had then turned Margolotte to stone, along with Unc Nunkie, the only relative Ojo had ever known. Ojo and Scraps had then set out on a quest to find magic ingredients, helped in the second half by the Scarecrow and Dorothy. The Princess and the Emperor, in contrast, had put obstacles in their way, although now that Ojo was older and more mature, he better understood their viewpoints. It had all worked out in the end, thanks to the Wizard of Oz.

"Scarecrow, may we please have three cushions?" Ozma now said.

"Oh, of course." As always, the straw man was eager to make his meaty guests comfortable. He clumsily grabbed a corn-colored silk cushion from a crow-shaped chair and placed it on the floor. Ojo grabbed two more but wasn't sure where to set them.

"Does it matter what order we sit in?" he shyly asked Dorothy.

"I don't think so, although I've never played."

"Should we send the Sawhorse back to ask Betsy?" the Tin Man inquired.

"I think the six of us can manage on our own," Ozma said.

"Should I invite the Sawhorse in to join us?" the Scarecrow asked. He clearly wanted to be a good host, but he seemed like he'd prefer not to include an animal, especially one made of wood.

"Let's limit it to people," the Princess said. "And dear as he is to us, he's not really a personage."

"Well, that's true," the Scarecrow said with visible relief.

"Besides, he might give the meat people splinters," Scraps said and they all laughed merrily.

Ozma made herself comfortable on the cushion that the Scarecrow had set down. She still looked regal, with her long white gown tucked under her. Dorothy smiled at Ojo and took one of his cushions. She sat to Ozma's left, smoothing out her gingham dress. Ojo hesitated and then sat on Dorothy's other side, taking off his own hat, a tall pointy Munchkin one, since he still dressed in the quaint fashion of his homeland. He was afraid the hat might fall off during kissing.  


Continuing clockwise, the Scarecrow, Tin Man, and Patchwork Girl finished off the small circle. Ojo noticed that the humans were all in a row and the animated people were all together, while the ladies were on one side, the gentlemen on the other. He didn't know if this would make a difference in the game.

"How do we know when someone's won?" the Tin Man asked.

"Why don't we play till a pair repeats?" the Scarecrow suggested.

They all agreed that this sounded fair, although Ojo couldn't help thinking that there might be only two rounds, if Person A spun to Person B, who spun back to A. He wasn't sure if he hoped that he wouldn't get a turn or if he would be disappointed. It depended on who he spun to, and who spun to him, and how it felt to kiss the person(s) in front of the other people. Yes, they were all friends, but that didn't make this any easier. Yet he knew that he couldn't make himself get up and leave the room. He had to know what would happen.

"Who goes first?" the Scarecrow asked.

"I will!" the Patchwork Girl said eagerly and the others smiled. Scraps was never shy. She leaned forward and gave the Tin Man's hat a good, hard spin. It took a long while to slow down and then to stop. At first, Ojo watched in amusement, seeing the reactions of the others as they wondered if it would stop at each of them.

"What happens if it stops at me?" Scraps asked.

"I think you can try again," Ozma said. It seemed best for Ozma to set the rules, as she was their ruler.

On the last spin, the funnel did seem like it might indeed stop at Scraps herself, but it kept going through all the girls, till it stopped and pointed most definitely at Ojo! The others smiled again.

Ojo felt self-conscious having to share the first kiss of the game. He'd hoped the funnel would turn a little more, towards the Scarecrow. But Scraps was one of his oldest and dearest friends, and it probably wouldn't be unpleasant to kiss her. At least her cloth face would be soft. (It was the metallic Tin Man's kiss he was most dreading in this game.)

"Well, Ojo?" she asked and then puckered up.

He managed not to laugh or even grin. Instead he leaned towards her and let her give him a quick smack on the lips. It was over before he could decide if he liked it.


	2. Ojo Spins

"Now it's Ojo's turn," the Patchwork Girl said, settling back into her cross-legged position as if it was perfectly ordinary that a cloth person and a flesh & blood person had shared the first kiss for both. Ojo was sure nothing like that had ever happened at any of Betsy Bobbin's bottle-spinning games.

Ojo leaned forward again, but this time to spin the funnel. He gave it a good, hard spin, too. It lasted long enough for him to figure out that of the five possibilities, one would end the game, landing back on Scraps. He really didn't want the game to consist of only kisses between him and the Patchwork Girl, but he didn't particularly want to kiss either man, and he was nervous about kissing either human girl.

When the hat slowed down, it seemed like it might stop at Ojo himself. He'd have to go through this again. He wondered what would happen if a person kept having the funnel point at himself or herself. He supposed they'd end the game after awhile.

But the hat continued on to the left enough to stop at the Scarecrow. Another cloth kiss! And the Scarecrow's burlap face was not going to be as soft as the patchwork. But he could face it. He turned his head and puckered up.

He’d forgotten that the Scarecrow’s facial features were painted on, so the Scarecrow couldn’t exactly pucker back. But their host did press his mouth against Ojo’s long enough to count as a kiss.

“My turn to spin then.”

Ojo did the math as the funnel turned. The Scarecrow had the same chance as Ojo had had of ending the game, one in five, not counting landing on himself. Ojo really didn’t want three kisses in a row from stuffed people, one with cotton and one with straw.

The hat stopped at Ozma! The Princess smiled sweetly at the Scarecrow and said, “Are you ready to kiss your old comrade?”

The Scarecrow chuckled. “I never imagined this when I met you so long ago, Tip.”

Ojo remembered that Ozma had once been transformed into a boy, although she was now very much a girl, the most beautiful girl in the world.  
The Scarecrow and Ozma leaned towards each other so that they could kiss. It lasted a bit longer than Ojo’s kiss with the Scarecrow. Ojo envied the straw man, who seemed so at ease kissing Ozma, despite her beauty and power. Her beauty was internal as well as external, and her power was magical as well as political, since she was part fairy, on her mother’s side.

After their kiss, there was again a one in five chance of the game ending, still not very likely. Ojo didn’t know what he’d do if the funnel pointed to him, but he knew that the longer the game went on, the fewer pairs that remained.

The hat didn’t stop anywhere near him. Instead it pointed at the Patchwork Girl. Scraps laughed and gave Ozma another quick smack on the lips.

“My turn again!” Scraps exclaimed.

Ojo calculated. A two in five chance that this could end the game, if it landed on him or Ozma. But instead the funnel pointed at Dorothy.

“It looks like I’m kissing all the meat people,” Scraps observed with a chuckle. Dorothy was sitting right next to her, so the girls simply turned their heads and gave each other a quick but hearty kiss.

That was Dorothy’s first kiss, in the game anyway. So it was back to a one in five chance of ending again, if Dorothy got Scraps. But when she spun the funnel, it landed on the Tin Woodman.

Dorothy didn’t complain about kissing metal. She seemed fond enough of Nick Chopper not to mind.

It was hard not to watch the other people kiss, to see their styles, and how those styles changed or not with each new partner. Ojo supposed they had been watching him as well, but he tried not to think about that.

As the Tin Man had not yet kissed anyone in the game but Dorothy, it was still one in five that he could end the game. Ojo couldn’t help hoping that the funnel wouldn’t stop at him, even if it hadn’t bothered Dorothy.

Instead the hat went past Ojo and stopped at the Scarecrow. This was the first kiss between any of the non-flesh people, and everyone knew that the Scarecrow was the Tin Man’s very oldest and dearest friend. The two had been through many adventures together, including a search for Nick’s former fiancée that ended happily, when they found out she had married during his absence.

The Winkie Emperor and the former ruler of all Oz were sitting next to each other of course and they easily turned for a long, lingering kiss. Ojo had the feeling after awhile that it was not their first together. He felt almost like he shouldn’t be watching it, but it was hard to tear his eyes away. When he managed for a moment, he looked over at the three girls, who were all watching adoringly. He shook his head.

When the kiss ended, the Scarecrow calmly said, “Let me see. That’s seven, almost half of the possible pairs. And I’ve kissed three out of the five of you, so there’s a very strong chance that I’ll end the game now. But I’ll give it a good spin.”

Ojo looked at the Tin Man and could see that he was hoping that if the Scarecrow repeated any kiss, it would be the one with him. Ojo would have no problem with that, although it would mean he wouldn’t have gotten to kiss either of the other humans. But maybe that was as well. Either kiss would mean more to him than just a silly game.

The hat stopped at the Patchwork Girl, who looked like she would’ve blushed if she could’ve. Her kiss of the Scarecrow was shyer at first than the ones she’d given Ojo and Ozma, but as the kiss went on, she became more enthusiastic. And the Scarecrow, who had always regarded Scraps as beautiful and fascinating, was equally involved in the kiss.

Ojo noticed that Dorothy and Ozma were again beaming at the Scarecrow kissing. Ojo looked at the Tin Man to see if he minded, but the metal woodsman was smiling warmly, as if happy for his friends and not a bit jealous.

“My, oh my!” Scraps said when the kiss ended, making them all laugh. “Scare Dear, I’ve forgotten how many kisses for me so far.”

“Four. So unless the hat lands on Nick, or yourself, we’ll have to end the game.”

“Well, Mr. Chopper, let’s hope I get a lucky spin.”

As the funnel went round and round, Ojo thought about how for the first part of his life, he had been known as Ojo the Unlucky. And then his luck had changed and he became Ojo the Lucky. Glinda the Good once told him that we all make our own luck to some degree, but Ojo believed that having the opportunity to change your luck required some luck. And, as this evening was proving, some things still had to be left to chance.

The hat slowed and it looked like it might stop at the Scarecrow, which Ojo was sure no one would mind. But it continued on until it pointed at the Tin Man. They all applauded. Perhaps they weren’t ready for the game to end after all.

Nick and Scraps were sitting next to each other, so she threw her cotton stuffed arms around his shoulders, while he wrapped his metallic arms around her waist. To everyone’s surprise, the kiss was open-mouthed, but then the Scarecrow wasn’t able to open his mouth, while the other non-humans could. The Woodchopper’s jaw hinge lowered and the Patchwork Girl’s scarlet plush tongue darted inside the Emperor’s mouth. Now Ojo felt very odd watching a kiss. He saw that the two princesses (for Dorothy was a princess, too, despite her humble beginnings) were trying very hard not to giggle. And the Scarecrow looked pleased as punch at the completion of this triangle.

Ojo realized something. All the non-humans had now kissed each other, but none of the humans had. Would that happen at all, or would the game end on the next spin? Unless the Tin Man made his hat point to either Ozma or Ojo, that might be it. Well, nine spins out of fifteen was probably more than they could’ve expected.

When the kiss was over and Scraps’s tongue was back in her own mouth, the Tin Man carefully spun his hat around, until it pointed at Ojo.

The Munchkin boy had had a feeling this might happen. At least it meant the game would go on, although that also meant that when it was his turn to spin, he had to get Ozma or Dorothy, or else end the game for everyone.

Ojo and the Tin Man leaned towards each other, in front of the Scarecrow, who smiled indulgently. But before they could kiss, the Tin Man sat up and said, “Excuse me, I’m a little rusty.” There hadn’t been any moisture in the kisses from the Scarecrow or Scraps, no matter how enthusiastic, but there seemed to have been a little in the kiss from Dorothy. Ojo could indeed see a thin layer of rust on the Tin Man’s mouth. Nick got his oil can from the table, oiled himself, and then came back and sat down. 

It made Ojo realize that he probably should’ve freshened his breath after dinner. The non-humans couldn’t smell or taste it, but the princesses probably would. Well, it was too late now.

Although this had been the kiss Ojo had been dreading the most, it wasn’t bad. The Tin Man kissed him as gently as he kissed Dorothy, as if aware how fragile flesh was around metal.

Afterwards, Ojo looked at the princesses, who were both smiling at him. The odds were against him getting to kiss either one. There was a three in five chance that the funnel would point to someone he’d already kissed, someone he hadn’t particularly wanted to kiss. He was still Ojo the Unlucky sometimes.


	3. Luck

Ojo spun the funnel and waited impatiently for it to stop. He hoped he’d get Scraps if he had to get a non-human. He was more comfortable kissing girls, and she was softer than the Tin Man or even the Scarecrow.

But on the last rotation, the hat went past Scraps and stopped at Ozma! He was going to kiss Ozma of Oz! Could any other human male say that? Ozma, the kind and beautiful, who was sought after by young foreign kings, from Bud of Noland to Evardo of Ev.

Ozma smiled warmly at Ojo, while this time Dorothy did giggle, although it was not at all mean-spiritedly. Ojo very much wished he knew more about kissing. His very recent experiences with Scraps, Nick, and the Scarecrow were not much help to him here.

But he knew he had to start somewhere with humans, even if it was with the most beautiful human in the world. She leaned forward so that her face was right next to his. He could smell how sweet her breath was. He wondered if she had brushed her teeth, or if fairies always had fresh breath.

She stroked his hair and he remembered the Scarecrow once remarking that Tip had looked a little like Ojo, about the same age when the Scarecrow met each of them, and both with hair as black as night. He shyly reached out and stroked her very long dark hair, careful not to damage the large poppies she wore on either side of her head.

Then she puckered up her soft, pink lips and he found himself puckering back. They melted into a sweet, long kiss. He tried not to think of her as the ruler of all Oz, but instead as just a girl. Still, he was aware after awhile that she was controlling the length and depth of the kiss, not that he minded.

When she stopped it, he felt a little dizzy. He was glad it wasn’t his turn to spin.

As the hat turned, he tried to remember how many people she’d kissed so far. He thought it was three, counting him, with only the Tin Man and Dorothy left. If the funnel stopped at its owner, then the game would have to end after the kiss, because Nick would’ve kissed everyone. But if it stopped on Dorothy, it might go on awhile longer.

It stopped on Dorothy. The two girls smiled at each other and then tenderly stroked each other’s face. Ojo wished he had dared to do that with Ozma. She looked like she had very soft, delicate skin. Dorothy’s was freckled but probably soft as well, if not as soft as a fairy’s.

As they were sitting next to each other, they didn’t have to lean past anyone or over the funnel. They took their time before they moved in for a very warm and very tender kiss. Ojo had the feeling that this wasn’t their first, although they were probably no more used to an audience than the Scarecrow and Tin Man were.

Ojo was too focused on the lovely girls kissing to pay any attention to how their friends were reacting, until Scraps said, “Well, Scarecrow, how many pairs is that?”

The princesses ended their kiss but smiled at each other again.

“Well, let me see, that’s twelve out of fifteen. But of the three remaining pairs, two of them have Dorothy in them, so the odds aren’t bad that we can continue playing awhile longer.”

Ojo was very aware that the two players Dorothy hadn’t yet kissed were the Scarecrow and himself. Would he be lucky enough for the funnel to point to him? After all, with only three turns left, this was probably his only chance left with Dorothy. If the hat stopped at the Scarecrow, was there a way for it to work back around to Ojo?

Before he could figure it out, Dorothy had spun the hat and it was already slowing down. It passed her and reached Ojo. Would it keep going and stop at the Scarecrow? Or maybe it would go a bit further and stop at someone who had already kissed Dorothy. It stopped at Ojo! He felt for a moment like his heart had stopped with it.

“Well, Ojo, it looks like we get a turn after all,” Dorothy said with a smile.

“Yes, it looks that way.” He wished he could think of something more clever to say.

She was right beside him and she put her arms around him, tilting her head up, because even sitting down he was a bit taller than her these days. He stroked her face and she moved it closer. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the presence of their friends. Then he felt her lips on his. He kissed her and she kissed back.

At first, it was a soft, gentle kiss, but then to his surprise, he felt her tongue licking his lips. He remembered Scraps kissing Nick and suddenly a girl’s tongue in a fellow’s mouth didn’t seem strange or comical anymore. He opened his mouth to receive Dorothy’s tongue and sure enough it slipped in.

After awhile, it played with his tongue and he learned how to play back. He even ventured into her mouth and they played for quite awhile, till Scraps teased, “We should’ve imposed a time limit.”

He and Dorothy both drew apart and when he opened his eyes, he could see she was blushing again. He suspected he was, too. But he didn’t mind really.

“Well, that was a fun game,” said the Tin Man. “Thank you for suggesting it, Dorothy, even though we didn’t quite have every pair.”

“The game isn’t over,” said the Scarecrow.

“But it must be!” Ojo protested. “I’ve kissed all of you.”

“And so have I,” Scraps pointed out.

“Yes, but as I understand the rules,” the Scarecrow said, “we keep going till a pair is repeated. Just because we know a pair must be repeated by Ojo, that doesn’t mean it’s happened yet. So there must be one last kiss.”

“Oh, of course,” Ojo said quietly. He wondered who he would get. He wouldn’t even mind the Tin Man again. A couple metallic kisses were a small price to pay for the wonderful kisses he’d shared with the princesses.

“Spin spin spin, Ojo!” Scraps urged.

He smiled at her. Another kiss with his old friend might be fun, although he hoped he wouldn’t get her plush tongue this time. He couldn’t help thinking of Dorothy’s tongue. Magical as the kiss with Ozma had been, there was something to be said for a kiss from a down-to-earth girl who had offered him friendship even before they met.

He gave the funnel a good, hard spin and then sat back on his heels and waited. The others watched eagerly, for each knew that they might have the last kiss of the night. Then they all laughed when the hat pointed at Ojo.

“Spin again, Old Chum,” said the Scarecrow. He was a warm, droll friend and Ojo thought it might be fun to kiss him again, if Ojo’s next spin were the same as his very first in the game.

Ojo spun the funnel once more. And it looked like it might go to himself again, but it stopped just short, at Dorothy again. He felt very lucky at that moment.

This time their kiss was less playful, more intense. He tried not to think about how it was the last kiss he’d get from her, perhaps ever. Well, maybe there would be future games of Spin the Bottle, although he might want a different line-up of players than this. 

“Dorothy Darling, I’m sorry but it’s getting very late. I think I’ll go upstairs.”

Dorothy ended the kiss. “Oh, yes, Ozma, of course. You’re right.”

Soon they were all bidding each other goodnight, the three non-humans wishing their flesh friends a pleasant sleep.

Ojo slowly followed the two princesses upstairs, giving them privacy for a fonder goodnight. He hoped Ozma hadn’t been jealous of his two kisses with Dorothy. He would certainly never want to offend her.

He thought of turning around on the stairs and staying with the others till the coast was clear, but then he heard Scraps giggle. Perhaps one or both of the meatless men had done something to make her giggle, or maybe she’d thought of a silly rhyme about that evening. But he didn’t want to find out, so he continued his slow progress up the stairs.

When he reached the third floor landing, he came upon the girls whispering together. Were they talking about the game? Was Ozma complaining of Dorothy’s kisses with Ojo, as Dorothy defended herself and assured Ozma that they had meant nothing? Or were they gossiping together about the triangle they’d left on the first story?

“Excuse me,” Ojo said, wishing he’d brought his hat so he could tip it politely. But, like the Tin Man’s hat, it’d been left on the floor. He was still in the rest of the Munchkin wardrobe, from pointy shoes to white ruff around the neck, with knee-breeches and a tailed jacket in between, blue of course.

He noticed that Ozma’s white gown was still smooth and spotless, as if it had just come from the royal laundress, but Dorothy’s gingham dress was a little rumpled from the hugging and kissing. He found both ladies more breath-taking than ever, and he felt honored that both had kissed him.

“Would you like to share my bed-chamber?”

“Of course, Ozma, thank you.” Dorothy kissed Ozma’s cheek.

He was startled that Ozma would issue the invitation in front of him, but there were fewer secrets among the six of them than there had been before. And perhaps she was staking out her claim to Dorothy, letting him know that just because he had kissed Dorothy, kissed both of them, this was just one evening’s madness and would not be repeated. He had to accept that, and feel lucky for what he’d got, but it wasn’t easy.

“Well, Ojo?” The look on Ozma’s face was amused yet impatient.

“What, me? You’re inviting me?” He couldn’t believe this.

“I’m sorry if I was unclear. I meant plural you.”

“I’d love to!” he burst out with such enthusiasm that both girls laughed.

Then, as Ozma opened the door to the bedroom, Dorothy grabbed his hand and squeezed it, exclaiming, “Oh, Ojo, this is going to be such fun!”

“Indeed!” Ojo the Lucky ejaculated.

 

THE END


End file.
